


To Walk in Eternity

by twitchbell



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, K9 and Company
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Character Death, Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Moving On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchbell/pseuds/twitchbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Brigadier visits Sarah Jane Smith with sad news about Harry Sullivan. She surprises him with news of her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Walk in Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> Written after _K9 and Company_ had aired, so not canon-compliant with the new series of _Doctor Who_ or _The Sarah Jane Adventures_. I remembered this in the wake of the sad losses of Elisabeth Sladen and Nicholas Courtney, and a sad loss of my own.

_'We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, But no longer at ease here. In the old dispensation.'_  
T.S. Eliot, Journey of the Magi

Damned silly though it was, the Brigadier couldn't help thinking wistfully of the pleasures of a traditional English summer as he swung his Volvo off the main road, kicking up a flurry of dust behind him. He squinted ahead to where the brown, arid landscape gave lie to the universal myth of England as a green and pleasant land, and then gave a small sigh of relief when he saw the sign for Queen's Cross.

The cottage was set back from the road, a sturdy, turn of the century building that harmonised with its surroundings rather than imposed itself upon them in the way of so much modern architecture. The Brigadier parked the car in front of the house and walked slowly up to the front door.

This was a part of the job he'd always disliked, but one he'd always made a point of taking upon himself. The fact that he was retired and the woman he was calling on had never held an official UNIT position made no difference. Friendship was owed this much at least. He rang the bell.

It took him a few seconds to register the change in Sarah Jane Smith's appearance. He remembered her as slim, trendily dressed and animated. The woman confronting him now looked at least ten years older than her actual age, her dark hair hanging limply around her tired face. She had put on weight, a rather shapeless blue frock doing little to conceal the fact.

"Brigadier?" Her expression was a mixture of amazement and bewilderment.

"Miss Smith? I hope this isn't too… er… inconvenient. May I — ?"

Her face broke into a smile, taking years off her. "Come on in — I'm really… I mean, I just didn't expect to see you. It's been such a long time."

"Two years since the last reunion," he reminded her as he followed her inside." And I told you then, young lady, that it was Alastair."

She turned to face him and grinned. "And I'm Sarah, remember? Come and sit down, 'Alastair'."

"I've been trying to call you, left messages on your answering machine…"

Sarah sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I haven't had the chance to check them. I've only just got out of hospital."

"Hospital!" the Brigadier echoed in dismay. "I had no idea. Are you…? I mean, you're quite well again now?"

Sarah smiled. "My life will never be the same again, but yes, I'm quite well, thank you. I wasn't ill, I was – "

There was a fretful wail from upstairs. Sarah spun around and sighed. "Oh damn! I've only just got her off to sleep, too. Go and sit down, Alastair, I'll be with you in just a minute."

The Brigadier, open—mouthed with astonishment, watched her wearily climb the stairs. He was still standing there when Sarah reappeared with a tiny crying bundle in her arms.

"A baby!" he said, as if doubting the evidence of his own senses. "You were in hospital having a baby!"

"Well, I certainly didn't pick her up at Sainsbury's," Sarah rejoined, her expression a mixture of exhaustion, exasperation and pride.

"Good Lord," said the Brigadier faintly, and then sat down. Sarah regarded him wryly.

"Rather difficult to take in, isn't it?" she remarked. "Can you imagine the shock I got when I found out I was pregnant?"

The Brigadier felt as if he was lost in very dense fog. "You mean it wasn't planned, or anything?"

"Definitely not — babies were the last thing on my — on _our_ minds."

"The father of this child, is he, I mean — "

"No, we're not married. Well, he is, to someone else," Sarah amended. She grinned, not seeming embarrassed by his obvious discomfiture. "I know. It sounds a bit like a soap opera, doesn't it? His marriage was in trouble and we had — well, I don't even know if you could call it an affair, it just happened. I was on antibiotics at the time, and forgot they reduced the effectiveness of the pill. Little Lauren Elizabeth here is the result of my ignorance."

"That's a very pretty name. May I see her?"

Lauren Elizabeth had stopped crying, her blue eyes a little teary, her face screwed up, the tiny hands still flailing helplessly. The Brigadier took one in his own, marvelling at the difference in size. "She has such long fingers. She's quite beautiful, Sarah."

"She's improving," Sarah admitted. "The first time I saw her she looked exactly like a cabbage patch doll."

"It's quite incredible, isn't it? The miracle of birth, and how much we take it for granted."

"Well, rest assured I shan't in the future . The miracle of birth is quite firmly engraved on my memory, thank you." Sarah pulled a rueful face. "Eighteen hours in labour is going to take some forgetting."

"One of those rare cases where the end justifies the means?"

"Definitely," Sarah grinned. "Now she's here I wouldn't be without her. Only I'm so tired all the time. I thought those women who said they couldn't cope with a baby were just under—organised or exaggerating, and now I feel like I've turned into one of them. I can't seem to get anything done; I'm forever washing, feeding or changing her."

"If Doris and I… " The Brigadier cleared his throat. "We married too late to have children of our own, but if there's anything we can — "

"Thank you." Sarah touched his hand. "Knowing that helps. Aunt Lavinia lives permanently In America now, you see; Brendan's got K9 with him for some agricultural research and — "

"What about Lauren Elizabeth's father?"

Sarah bit her lip. "That's tricky. Oh, he wants to do all he can but he's, well, pretty much a household name. His wife knows about us, but if the press got hold of it… " Sarah broke off, looking down at her baby. "I don't want her growing up with labels stuck on her declaring her to be so—and—so's love child, and it wouldn't help his future prospects, either."

"Hmmph, I wouldn't be too sure of that. It doesn't seem to do our politicians much harm, does it?" said the Brigadier tartly. "I do, however, take your point about little Lauren Elizabeth. It really wouldn't do at all."

"Would you like to hold her? I'll go and put some coffee on if you like."

The Brigadier rose and reached out for the baby. At Sarah's laugh, he realised that he must have looked apprehensive

"Don't worry, she won't break. Just make sure you support her head — like this."

With Lauren safely in the Brigadier's grasp, her mother turned for the kitchen.

"Sarah."

Something about the Brigadier's tone stopped Sarah in her tracks. She turned, looking at him enquiringly. Now, more than ever, the Brigadier regretted having to be here, knowing that he was going to have to spoil her happiness.

"I'd like to pretend that this was just a social call, but it isn't. I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"Go on," Sarah said quietly. She stood quite still.

The Brigadier took a deep breath and held up his head, as though he were at attention. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that Harry Sullivan was killed in action last week. I don't know all the details. I only know that he was shot whilst in the service of Her Majesty's Government."

"Oh no… " Sarah put her hand to her mouth and stared at him. "I don't believe it."

"Unfortunately, it is true. Knowing how closely you'd been associated, I didn't want you to hear this from a letter or — " The Brigadier stopped.

Sarah was crying. She moved slowly back to the chair opposite him, her hands covering her face.

"My dear… I'm so sorry," the Brigadier whispered. The words were ones he'd said too many times before, to too many people; they were words he always hoped he'd never to have to say again. He felt helpless, and not just because of the child in his arms. After a few long seconds, Sarah's sobs checked and she looked up.

"Oh God. This is … It's just so … so hard to accept that he's gone."

"It always is." The Brigadier winced at the triteness of his response as soon as he said it.

Sarah blinked through her tears. "When we were with the Doctor, we passed death by so many times, we lived through so much, and now we find out in the end we're only mortal. So unfair! After all Harry had lived through and was coming to terms with. Oh, you know how it is, having to deal with the sense of being different from everyone else, like the Magi in the poem."

"Such, I fear, is the fate of all whose lives are touched by the Doctor," the Brigadier told her, with feeling.

"Do you think he realises how much he changes our lives, how hard it is for us to move on?"

The Brigadier sat down, supporting the baby with scrupulous care. "It may well be outside his comprehension. The Doctor is … the Doctor. We are, perhaps, as much beyond his understanding as he is beyond ours."

"Of course. He can always cheat death," Sarah said bitterly. She stood up slowly, like an old woman, then reached down and plucked her daughter from the Brigadier's arms. Her eyes glistened still, but the tears were drying slowly on her face. "We'd lost touch, you know. Harry and I. Isn't that awful? Travelling companions, reduced to cards at Christmas, UNIT reunions and promises that we must meet up more often. That's all it ever amounted to. Promises which were soon forgotten."

"Time marches on, Sarah," the Brigadier said gently. "It can be no other way. You both had your lives to rebuild and you went in different directions. It happens."

"No. We _let_ it happen. After everything we'd shared with the Doctor, we let ourselves drift apart. Maybe it was actually easier that way."

"In what respect?" The Brigadier was genuinely curious.

"Harry and I – we had so many things to forget, didn't we? So much that had to stay locked away. You can't talk about a lot of the things we've done and seen. Some are Official Secrets and others — well, who'd believe us anyway? And it's easier to put things behind you if there's no—one around to remind you of what you've got to forget."

"If that's so, Sarah, then there's absolutely no reason for you to feel guilty. It seems you lost contact because, under the circumstances, it was the only thing to do — no matter how much you both wished it could be otherwise. So now you mourn, not just Harry's death, but a friendship that had been forced to a natural end long beforehand. Isn't that right?"

Sarah sighed. "Maybe. But it was still… it's frightening to be reminded that, after everything you've seen and experienced, you're still human. Maybe being with the Doctor gave us a false sense of immortality. While we were with him, we also walked in eternity."

"Being human does have its compensations." The Brigadier nodded towards the baby.

"Yes." Sarah gave a gentle smile and she held Lauren Elizabeth close.

"Don't live in the past, Sarah," said the Brigadier quietly. "Mourn, as will we all, then let go and look to your — and Lauren's — future. That's what matters now."

Sarah nodded. "I know. But letting go isn't easy. Lauren's father found that out."

Letting go of Sarah, or his child? The Brigadier wondered, but declined to question further. Whatever the circumstances surrounding her conception, he found himself profoundly grateful for Lauren Elizabeth's unexpected arrival. Sarah who, by her own admission, sometimes felt so isolated, now had a very real and concrete connection to humanity and to the future. An anchor to reality, such as he had found in Doris. Such as Mike Yates had lacked, which had contributed to his breakdown a few years past? Maybe. He was glad Sarah was no longer alone.

He stood up, conscious that Sarah needed to be left to sift through her memories, to cry over them and eventually put them to one side so that she could go on with the vital business of living. As the Doctor did? But then, it must be so much easier for him; second nature, no doubt, with that storehouse of memories he possessed. But, the Brigadier wondered suddenly, was there anything amongst them to rival the sweetness of a lover's kiss, or the moment when your newborn child is placed in your arms? Had the Doctor ever known – or would he ever know – such joys? And if so, had they — would they — simply vanish into that vast mind of his, swallowed up by the litany of loss and death?

"I think it's time I went, Sarah. Look, take my address. Call if you need anything, even just to talk."

"Let's not lose contact, you mean?" Sarah looked up at him and nodded. "We can try to stay in touch at the very least."

"Why not? Like I said, Doris and I have no family. It would be nice to see little Lauren Elizabeth now and again. No, don't get up, Sarah — I can see myself out."

To walk in eternity is to take the loneliest path of all, the Brigadier thought, watching Sarah bend her head towards her child, her love shining out through the tears in her eyes. Maybe that was why the Doctor cherished humanity so much. Humanity with all its faults and failings and, to him, its short, butterfly lifespan. Best not to speculate too much. Best to just cherish the life they had and not envy the seeming immortality of others.

Eternity had its price.

~end~


End file.
